New Beginnings
by Locke Watcher
Summary: What if the PC attack Jonlethel instead of Imoen? What if the Cowled Wizards took you, instead of Imoen. What if...
1. Default Chapter

We stepped out, into the light. What we thought to be our salvation, turned into our hell. He was there, right there toying with those thieves. I felt the power of my blood -- my anger -- grow, urging me to attack, forcing me to attack. So I did, I did and ignored the cry of protest from Jarheira. I charged at my tormentor, preparing my mind and body for one spell and then one attack. That is all I had, all I needed.

When I closed the distance to mere feet, my magic released upon him. The look of shocked pain on his face, it drove me further into my attack. The distance became non-existence; my dagger stuck his face, his forehead, his brain.

He backs away, grabbing his forehead. He could do nothing; he was in too much pain. My move saved my life; it had saved my comrades-in-arms. But I drained myself of everything, I had nothing left, nothing but the void.

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My eyes opened slowly, pain hit my nerves, all of my nerves. I never felt like this, Jarheira had always healed me before any other, even her husband… her dead husband.

As I got use to the pain, I looked around. I was in a room, a lushly furnished room. I did not know where I truly was; I never spent much money for rooms and I knew that my party knew my reasons; comfort breeds comfort-cravings and competent.

I hear the door open, followed by light steps. I wanted to call out to Imeon, but I dared not. I dared not for reasons that I don't know. But I was thankful that I did not, the person came to the bed and peered over me, checking me as I it.

It was an old human female, a cleric to boot, based on her robe and the holy symbol on her neck. She nodded once, straighten herself and left. She left without saying a word, even a sound from her body, besides the sound of her sandaled feet lightly walking.

After a few minutes, I felt something, something warm and inviting. I instantly resisted mentally, but my body did not. My body welcomed the lost of thought, my body craved the feelings. I soon fell asleep.

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I woke up again and again, only to be put to sleep. I never ate during this time, never leaving the bed. I tried to contact my Goddess for help, for anything, only to receive nothing. Nothing but hope. But hope for what? I could not fathom why my Goddess would send me hope without giving me an answer, nor did I ever get much time for thought.

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I awoke again, hearing the voices of men inside my room. I kept my pose on the bed, not moving. But even with my good hearing, I could not make out the voices. Was it magic, or was it something that they did to their voices?

"This one… this mage?"

"The question is this. Is he a mage?"

"Magic flows though him. That is all we know."

"Can he be turned?"

"Into what? A Mind Flayer? A Troll? A chipmunk?"

"Into one of us." This voice, it seems familiar. And yet, I cannot tell the difference between his voice and the others.

"Mostly likely; though the effort would drain us of our powers and magic. The question now becomes this: is this unknown worth the effort?"

The familiar again, this time I detect a feminine note in the voice, "Yes, he shall be worth the effort. I shall begin the gathering." Familiar leaves with barely making a sound.

"Hehe, this shall be entertaining."

"I'll question the wisdom of these actions. They do not become of us."

"True, true my friend. But if she tells us to do something, we do it. We of the Cowl must survive the coming war."

"What war could draw us in?"

"A war that revolves around these Bhaalspawn. They will be the death or survival of us and our homes."

"I'm forced to agree with that nonsense. Lets go, this Spawn will awaken soon." They left with that, leaving me alone.

I did not know what they planned, or why they planned on using me. But I needed to remember all of this. That I know without a doubt. I laid bare my mind, preparing for one spell that could aid me in the future, this spell would aid me, it must.

I made a copy of all my memories, and hid it inside the deep recesses of my brain. Protecting it and protecting me. I prepared myself for the next sleep spell, ready for what will soon come. Or at least, hoping that I am ready.

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I woke up again, this time it was different, I felt that my memories had been modified. Most of them, not all of them. Those that I still have, I feel that they are being changed. My last memories left are memories of current events, realizing this; I activated my stored memory spell. I restored my memories almost instantly, but at the same time, I kept those modified memories. These people… The Cowled Wizards… wanted me for something, I aimed to find the reason.

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Once the spell was over, the sleep spell was cast on me again, only this time it was weaker. Because of this weakness, I negated the spell, and stayed awake studying these new memories. I need answers to my questions, and I need them soon!

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It has been a month since that night. I joined these Cowled Wizards with no problem. Their memories gave me the edge on everything concurring them. Within that month, I gained many new spells; and added them to my spell book and arsenal. I even don their robes without flinching at their haphazard protective wards.

Their trust was also easy to gain; all I needed to do was to never mention my past in Candlekeep. Now I can leave their tower at will, within reason.

Of course, reason was not needed when I gave them the excuse that I needed to see what my magic could truly do.

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The city of Athkatla, a cesspool of vice and death. A city that should have had a temple to Bhaal, just for all of the true evil contained within. That least that is my opinion of this city.

I entered the ruined Promenade, just to see what the battle did to the famous trade center. What I encountered was something that I did not think I'd see. The circus area – minus the main tent – had been transformed into an army camp. The army seemed to lay siege on the tent; it seems almost comical, but the looks of despair on the soldiers told me that something was going on, something magical.

I decided to investigate, but my robes are a dead give away as to what I am; a Cowled Wizard. And these people fear those of the Cowl more then their own troops. I skirted the inner perimeter, looking for a store that would sell a wizard's robe. I found one quickly, near the entrance to the tent. I questioned the hawker in front of the place, seeing if the gnome knew about any robes inside. After a few minutes of letting the gnome recite the entire inventory, I stopped him by raising my hand and entering the store.

Inside I saw why the place is called the Adventurer's Mart, it was over-stocked with all of the gear that one of could need. I quickly struck a deal with the manager -- one Rilbard – I would trade my robe for one Knave's Robe. The deal was swift and painless; I had no true connections to the Cowled Wizards, besides those that they set up.

Wearing my new robes, I left the store and walked towards the tent. The guards there, when I started my query, were apprehensive about talking with a mage and rightful so, I am one mage that could cast one spell and bring the entire camp down. Not that I would, I just could. The commander of the unit soon came, asking me why I wished to know about what was going on. I simply said that curious and that I could help. He said that he knew nothing truly useful, but he did offer me five thousand gold and a magical blade if I could clear the tent of all inhabitants. I agreed, seeing nothing wrong with this mission of death.

As soon as I entered the tent, I was transported into a different dimension, because there is no way that I could be inside the tent seeing as I was now on a broad marble bridge. Seeing nothing but darkness surrounding me, I proceeded to the center of the bridge; once I got there, I found a massive stone fortress. Swearing at the lack of information from the guards, I stepped towards the keep, intent on keeping my mission. After I stepped off the bridge, I was greeted by a strange being, that appeared behind me.

The being was a muscular humanoid that had a mist coming out of where it's legs should be. It had a deep desert tan, a tan that my lost lover – Imoen – would love to have. Next was it's face, tusks protruded from the mouth, like the tusks of an elephant; it's eyes were a dark red. I wrack my mind for the creature's identity, only figure that it was one of two possibilities – a Dijinn or an Efreeti. The history of the two became useless to me, only the facts that these creatures are advanced guards for powerful wizards.

Before he could start to talk, I launched a magic missile spell at it, startling the creature. The shock would quickly fade, so I launched myself into the attack. I used my lightly enchanted staff to club the Efreeti in the face with a diagonal slash, stunning him even more. I quickly switch my hands to use the other end of the staff to perform the same move, in reverse. This diagonal slash hit his elbow, forcing him to drop his scimitar. Seeing him completely disarmed from physical attacks, I cast one more spell, a water bolt.

The Cowled Wizards had forbid the use of forgotten magics, but I was technically not a Cowled one. The bolt of water hit the being of Fire squarely on the chest; the water sizzled away slowly, leaving the Efreeti venerable for one last attack. I quickly took out an enchanted throwing dagger and let it fly towards the wounded chest of the planar creature. The creature fell to the floor of the bridge, dead before he hit the marble. I picked up the sword, after sensing magical energies on it.

I continued on, towards the stone fortress, now coming to a clear focus. The building turned into a grand palace, made from the same material as the bridge. I entered the building, not hurrying, not slowing. Once I entered the structure, I slowed down to a stop. In front of me stood two orcs, an Ogre, and a giant spider. They were bickering among themselves, even if I got within five feet of them, they would have never noticed. I had two decisions to make; one is to kill them all, the other to hide myself into the shadows and sneak past them. Though sneaking pass them would have proven to be the easier course, I went with the more direct approach. I cast a fireball into the center of the group, killing them all in one hit.

I walked towards the new corpses, intent on seeing if they carried any items of use to me. What I found was the charred body of a female elf and another of a female human, right where the Ogre and Spider stood. I stood there, shocked at my actions. I had killed two innocents, two people that did not deserve to die. I felt like some one played a deadly joke on me, a joke that made me kill two women that had their lives ahead of them. I lowered my head and muttered a prayer to my Goddess, Midnight, for the delivery of these souls into peace.

Death was, as always, my constant companion. Wherever I go, I kill. That simple fact fueled me in the past, causing my chaotic nature. But did it always have to control me? Yes, the answer was always, yes. Death is in my blood, even if I was not a Child of the God of Murder and Death. Death is in the blood of all people, of any species. There is no running away from that truth, I had never ran away from the truth either. I suddenly drew my twin daggers, chanting a spell that appeared in my head. I changed my daggers, improving them with new magics, from a spell that I do not know. But I did know that they, the daggers, had become my symbol of death and acceptance.

As I looked up, up from the corpses, up from my daggers, I heard laughter from beyond an enormous door way. I swore that if that laughter came from the master of this place of illusions, then I would kill him with out holding back any of my magic.

I left the corpses, undisrupted. Whatever they had, they can keep. I entered into a new room, this time I had time to look at it, before noticing the approaching monsters. This room was draped with velvet… velvet anything. I immediately thought that I came into a Casmhian harem, with the slave girls at the back of the room. Though after noticing the slaves, I noticed the monsters that were closing in on me. Shadows and werewolves, weak monsters for those prepared with heavy magic.

I drew my quarterstaff once again as I prepared a spell, knowing that my daggers, though powerful, were useless against a group of six shadows and five werewolves. As they neared, they slowed down, circling me, entrapping me. I knew that it was a smart move, a move that only a group with a commander could perform. I looked around, trying to see anyone that controlled these creatures, only to hear more laughter from above a set of stairs. I knew then that I faced a fellow mage, but this mage delighted himself on the pain of others, one could tell that by looking at the slaves.

As I was swearing to kill that laughing mage, a werewolf charged at me, faster then I thought. Though the blow hit me, I felt… nothing. I quickly realized that the werewolf was an illusion, most thing here were nothing more then illusions! Though when a shadow made a weak strike against me, I also realized that not all things here are phony.

I released my spell, my chain lightning, upon the shadows. As the lightning passed me by, it killed five of the six. The last one seemed hesitate to charge me now, knowing that it was the last one. Its hesitation was its death, as I did an overhead slash at it with my staff.

I stayed in the room for a while, resting and rememorizing my magic. The slaves stayed near the window, and away from me. For that I was thankful; one of them looked a little like Imoen, and after being use to her nightly visits before my capture, made looking at her near impossible without thinking of my love.

After I finished with my preparations, I walked up the stairs, and into… a marble circus tent? The change surprised me enough that I did not notice the big hulking form of an Ogre Mage, until it was too late. The Ogre hit me with his morning star, sending me flying towards the wall. Only my late-to-trigger contingency equipped with stone skin saved my life. I quickly got up and launched a wave of a color spray to find the bastard. But I did not need to do that, the mage charged at me with four shadows at his sides. I would have been afraid, had the mage not ran right into a sleeping orb and the shadows into combat orbs.

I shook my head, the battle was over faster then I could have imagined. I quickly ended the mage's life with a flame arrow spell; I did not have the spirit to kill him with my physical weapons. But, as the mage's body burned, the world around me seemed to shift and soon I was in a true circus tent and all around me were the corpses of the slaves and former monsters of the burned mage. I checked the remains of the mage, and I took his former gold and magical processions.

I walked out of the tent, only to find half of the army ready to charge inside. But seeing me step outside made the army cheer like crazy. I later found out that this was in fact the first time anyone left the tent and that I saved the fifth company from whatever fate befell the other four. The commander quickly came to me and gave me the promised five thousand gold and a magical long sword. I quickly sold the two swords that I gained in this mission for more gold, and then I brought a better-enchanted quarterstaff and the Ring of Victors.

As I left the Promenade, I felt a strange pull on my heart. I looked around me, looking for whatever did that, but I found no one around me that could have done that. Puzzled, I headed for the Government district.


	2. Gathering

"I still love you!"

I turned around; my face felt like it was deadpanned. I replied, "Do you believe that? Or do you know that as a fact?"

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I awoke with a start, trying to retain the memories of my dream. But only those last few seconds, were the only bits of the dream… or was it a nightmare, that I could remember.

I stood up, stretching my muscles and preparing my mind for a new day on the road. This was the second day that I have been traveling, traveling towards the village of Umar Hills and towards my target.

Valygar, a son to a wealthy family and the last member of it. He is my target. Then why I do I feel that I should talk to him first, probably because he opposes the organization that I'm 'in.'

Today is my last day of traveling towards this minor village, only seven more miles left to travel. I collected my gear, and left camp for the village.

But that dream… what does it mean?

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I stand before him, the powerful ranger Valygar, and I listen to his story. He knows that I'm a mage sent by the Cowled Wizards, and yet he bargains that my loyalties are based more so on gold, then favor. He couldn't be more right. I agreed to join him kill the owner of the Planer Sphere, and rid his family of its curse.

The ranger is a powerful fighter, equipped with enough magic to terrorize a low-class mage. His brown skin and black hair could easily aid and hinder him, when hiding. As he joined my side, I felt that he could be trusted, and yet, I felt that he could jeopardize everything that I plan on doing. Regardless, we left that cabin as comrades-in-arms, not as captor and prisoner.

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We traveled towards Athkatla, towards its Slum district. Once we arrived, we stood near the historian, gathering all available information from him.

After the historian finished with his presentation, I told Valygar, "We will need more help, if we want any change to kill your ancestor." The ranger looked at me, perplexed. "At the moment, our strengths combined cannot stand up to a powerful necromancer."

Understanding shone from his eyes, but Valygar still had a confused expression on it. I was about to ask why he was still confused, but the ranger spook first, "Then where shall we go, to find some one willing to join us?"

I moved my gaze back to the pearl of magic, "A necromancer is a master of the undead, a cleric or a strong paladin are the banes of the undead. We shall trek towards the Temple district, and hope that a priest of Helm is willing to aid us." With that, I turned myself towards the pathway to the Temples, hoping that a healer would heed our call.

But fate then intervened, as we were almost at the exit of the Slums, a dwarf sailed towards them. Valygar and I quickly jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding being impaled by the dwarven missile. Hoots and calls of victory were then shouted from the roof of the nearby inn, Valygar decided that that dodging thrown dwarves made him angry; he called out the victors of whatever battle had just been fought. As soon as all seven of them walked down the steps, the ranger yelled at them to explain themselves, they replied with that they were only having some fun with a useless battlerager.

I turned my head towards the nearly dead dwarf, seeing that he still had some fight left. I turned my head towards my… new friend, and saw the anger that someday may be pointed towards me. I then looked at the group that hurled the battlerager, seeing them injured and in bad shape.

I made the first move, I cast and thrown a fireball at them. The spell killed five of them; those that survived were heavily wounded. The last two some how dodged most of the damage, but they then faced Valygar's katana. I turned from the battle, knowing that the ranger could handle the two dodgers of my spell. I walked towards the dwarf and help him up, though had he not been so injured, I would have been slapped away.

I helped him to the nearby temple of Illmeter, and paid the cost to heal him. After the priest finished his prayer, Valygar entered, sporting one small cut on his left arm. Soon the dwarf introduced himself as Korgan Bloodaxe, a battlerager with no clan. We also learned that this Korgan was tricked by his now-dead comrades into gaining procession of a mystical book and then killing the person that wanted it.

After telling him that we would be doing much killing, and looting, Korgan joined my ranks, and gave me the book of Kaza. I then led my new party to the inn for some rest, and studying of the book for me.

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I later regretted leading the way into the Crooked Coronet, seeing as I walked straight into the face the a beautiful woman. Apologizing, I stepped back, and in the process got a full look at her face. I stopped in mid-step; my eyes could not stop looking at her. She looked almost like Imoen, just forget about the natural black eyes, the red blood veins in her eyes, and the tan, you would have Imoen. As I looked at her, she looked at me the same way… though more like 'where did I see this face before?' I did not notice right away that she was staring at me.

But Korgan did, he kicked me in the shin of my left leg, the only leg that I on the ground. I fell; I fell right on top of the woman. Some people would later wonder why I then fainted, but none of them knew that my head landed on her breasts. That and the resulting punch that I then suffered.

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After I woke up, I learned that Valygar had questioned the woman to learn her identity. I was a bit shocked to learn that she was the heir to a keep and a mage of fair power. I was more shocked to learn the reason why she 'was' the heir to a keep. Her father had setup a forced arranged marriage with a brat, or bastard, of a man, a few years ago. But, so long as her father lived, he stalled the wedding. Then, about six weeks ago, trolls invaded her keep. Her fiancé then led a small army to clear the keep. As his reward, he forced her, Nalia, to marry him.

During the wedding night, he forced himself onto Nalia, sealing the wedding's coven. Soon after, Isaac started to call her a whore of the nobility, and forced a divorce. The rumors that followed destroyed any chance that Nalia had of retaking her home.

That all forced her to now live with the people that she once tried to help, the poor. Nalia later told Valygar that soon she would have to live as a whore to survive. Valygar, thinking quickly asked her to join my group. After some thought, she joined, figuring that if someone in the group forced themselves on her, she would at least now the father.

The way that she said that, Valygar told me, made his blood run cold. And I could not agree with him more. Though when my blood started to warm up, I remembered the time table, she had living among the wretches of society for the past three to four weeks… has she been forced to copulate with anyone else?

She may have been, or she may have not been. I decided to let time tell the tale. After all, she may or may not lie, but time never does.

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I now led a party of adventurers, a party of four strong and/or resourceful people. After I was taken from Imoen, I thought that I would never develop another group this large, though this one would grow to be bigger still.

My first action as leader of this group was to get better equipment for the new members. Nalia may be a fellow mage, but she lacks the needed robes and magical rings. And Korgan may have been carrying an impressive axe, but time and misuse made it a near-worthless weapon. I spend most of my gold on Korgan's new armor and weapons, making him on par with Valygar.

Nalia was… a bit harder to shop for. Skilled with the short sword and short bow, she was limited in choices of equipment. I decided to simply buy her a normal sword and a light magical bow with some cheap normal arrows. The Slums provided no shops for mages, so I could not find a mage robe for her.

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My second decision was to head for the Temple district, so that we could hire a wanderlusted cleric or Paladin. This time, instead of dodging a dwarf as we left the Slums – we encountered a group of bandits.

Four fighter-types supported by a mage and a cleric – that is what my group now faced, together. This battle will be the first battle that I fought as the leader of the group, in over a few months. I may have lacked the practice, but I still held the knowledge.

I yelled at Valygar and Korgan to charge at the center of the bandits' formation, this move forced them to concentrate on the defense of their spellcasters. Next, I had Nalia fling a fireball behind the bandits, which killed the ill-placed mage. After that, I let chaos take control of the battle as I let loose a pack of hungry ogres at the lone, well placed, archer.

The battle soon ended, as the last fighter fell with an arrow sticking out of his head. I looked at each member of my party, looking for any wounds that required that I use my innate healing abilities and my potions. I only saw that Korgan, guff and yet… happy, had a cut on his arm. The cut was thanks to a short sword that had gotten stuck on his armor.

I walked over to Korgan, silently readying my innate healing, and dislodged the blade from the armor. Korgan only gave a slight humpf, as I inspected the blade. As I looked up, from the blade, I saw Nalia forcing a small potion down the dwarf's throat.

Grimacing, I held the weapon out to Nalia, hilt-first. When Nalia finally turned, she jumped back in surprise, seeing the blade being handed to her. She quickly said that I had provided her with so much that she could never repay her, after I finished listening to her, I thrust the hilt on her hands.

"Keep this blade, keep it and use it to reclaim what was lost. Never lose it, for to lose this would cause you to lose your fight."

Silently, she took it and smiled at me. I gave a small smile in return, and then turned around to loot the bodies. Though I turned to loot the bodies, I also turned so that I could think of the reasons why I said what I said. Could what made me enchant my daggers, made me give her the blade, Arbane's Sword?

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The rest of the way to the Temple district was uneventful, much to the complaint of the battlerager. Valygar took the time to teach Nalia some defensive moves with the quick blade, or tried to teach her when we were walking. I took the time to read a passage of the book of Kaza, hoping to glean some new insight of the undead.

As we entered the district, a massive explosion erupted from the center of the lavish temple of Lathander. I ran towards the temple, as my companions stood in shock. As I ran, I heard the sounds of battle, both of swords and prayers. I stopped near the edge of the fray, clerics of black robes with knights in black armor attacked the clerics and knights of yellow; the church of Talos is directly attacking the church of Lathander.

As I stood there, watching the carnage, shock written across my face. I recovered quickly, as I hoped that Midnight would forgive me, I chanted a spell that should end this battle. As I finished the chanting, a rune in the middle of the field appeared, making some knights jump back. But their jump was too little, too late. The rune made its own explosion, this one made every one stop dead in their tracks instantly. My power word did its job; only two knights of each church remained untouched.

Those survivors were quickly killed by my summoned undead. I stood there, with my undead moving towards me; to make a defensive formation should the power word end too soon. But my servants were destroyed before my eyes, without anyone touching them. I turned around, a scowl on my face, only to come face to face with the head of church of Helm in Athkatla.

"Greetings and well meet, wizard. I thank on your timely assistance. Please follow me as my people move these living statues to their respected churches."

I followed, seeing as I wanted to talk to this human. I only prayed that Midnight would forgive me for preventing a holy war between those two gods. I also prayed that I would not have to get further involved with the conflict, dealing with a necromancer and trying to find Imoen are the only things that I want to deal with at the moment.

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Orig, high priest of Helm, stood on top of a platform that had a large globe on it. Behind him, stood a party of adventurers whose leader helped the church of Helm, selflessly. To say that he was fortunate would be an understatement. He needed them, and they needed him… or at least some under his command.

Without turning to face them, Orig began, "Two months ago, there was an evil beholder cult in the sewers below. One month ago, the three churches set aside all differences to deal with this cult. One week after that, the cult and its beholders were wiped out. Now today, the churches of Talos and Lathander are once again at each other's throat. Only the church of Helm has been able to keep the peace, but today we faultier. Today, we failed to see the random charge of Talos' followers against the followers of Lathander. But today, you – Forion – rushed ahead of your party and put a stop to this act of aggression. To reward would dishonor those before you, and yet I am compelled to treat you differently.

"So, I treat better then those before. Once you prove yourselves, though."

For all that I did, for all that I could do, I sighed. This guy would not aid me, not with the state of war going on. I looked at Korgan, seeing the look of unabridged angry. I looked at Valygar, seeing the calm on his face, seeing the storm in his eyes. I looked at Nalia, seeing the look of abject defeat… abject defeat?

I quickly realized that she thought that we had placed her keep on a higher priority then anything else. She thought that we came here to gather allies of an assault. I would have laughed, but I didn't. I didn't because with the passing of that sword, I subconsciously do so, on both accounts. I would have scowled myself, but I had a role as leader of this group; just as she has a role as the heir to her keep.

I turned my face and body to Orig and asked, "How do we prove ourselves to you and Helm?"

My question stuck a cord with all of the Helmites in the hall. They turned to each other to discuss the implantations of my question. After all, to prove myself – and my party – I must prove to both Orig and Helm. Making them one, in a way.

Though his back is turned towards us, I could see that my point made its way to him. I would only serve him, if he were following his god's will. If he were planning on sending me and my party to assured death, it would not be for his god.

After a minute of digesting my words, Orig turns himself to face us. His face bore a smile that I would have not thought possible on the stern old man. "Your play on words are quite… unforeseen. Never as one of your kind made that statement! You truly are a child of a god."

If the hall was loud before, then this was ear-splitting pandemonium. The priest and alcotyes having shouting their heads off at each other just to be heard. My companions stared at me in complete shock. There might have been a battle being waged outside, and no one could hear it if they were in the building.

I kept my face passive, trying not to restore order with a few… painful spells. Even with Orig staring at me like a judge, I kept my cool. I had no choice; I had to endure similar stares before, even if I thought that those days were over. He roped me into this; he knew that a public statement that a godchild was helping him, he could keep the other churches in line. But I had roped him as well, only if Helm wanted my help, would I help.

"Godchild, this church and its deity request that you and your friends end this war, one way or another! In exchange, you shall receive the help of a Paladin of Torm and a priestess of Helm in you quests. And you shall always be welcome in this temple!"

I bowed my head, accepting the assignment. At the same time, I accepted that the truth about me would now be known throughout the nation of Amn. As I lifted my head, I saw an image on the top of the dome, the image of the icon of the Watcher merged with the icon of Bhaal. I then turned around and walked out of the temple, my companions dumbly following me. As I walked out, I silently prayed that image was just an illusion, nothing more.

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(AN)

Chapter 2 of 3 finished, though if you people want me to continue on with this fic, I may consider it.

Yes, the PC of this fiction is named Forion. He is a Half-Elf that mutli-classes as a mage/thief of the alignment of Chaotic Neutral. He has two points in quarterstaff, a point in daggers, a point in two-handed weapon style, and a point in two-weapon style.

Str: 12

Dex: 17

Con: 6

INT: 18

WIS: 15

CHR: 14

In response to Bloody Kitsune's review, I don't think that you can raise someone that you do not know without a conductor. With the simple fact that no one knows Aerie, because they are all dead, then there is no way that a god could restore her soul to her original body. If you go use that small quest at the beginning of ToB, you have a conductor there, the father's son.

Okay, I could make more sense on that, but I'm bloody tired and I have to drive to my parents after work tomorrow, so that they have two of their children home for Christmas/Yule.


End file.
